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Last week I opened the door to the garage and saw a bucket of beat-up nails. Nails in different colors of rust and decay, assorted lengths and widths, some straight, most bent. Interesting, and even beautiful in a way. 

 
“What are you going to do with those?” my husband, son, and almost-son-in-law asked when they saw me carrying a handful upstairs. I had no idea, of course, but started arranging them to see what would happen. (You can see the result above.)

 
The nails seemed to be telling a story, but I didn’t know which one till Sam told me where they came from. The nails were removed from pieces of our old deck he saved for the new one, which is being rebuilt for Samantha’s wedding.

 
She wants to get married in October as part of a mini family tradition. Sam and I were married on October 22, 1983, and later discovered that my grandparents, Esther and I.B. Levin, were married on the same date in 1916.  Two happy marriages, now looking forward to the third.